cindy's world

Thank goodness for bloggers & blog archives! This explained a lot, including the fussy eating/pulling off behavior. It’s hormone/menstrual-related! Apparently menstruation changes the taste of the milk, and temporarily decreases milk supply. This post and its comments restored me.

http://blogginaboutbabies.wordpress.com/2009/04/20/milk-supply-during-menstruation/

Morning has been good so far, even miraculous at points. She stayed tolerant, and absolute angel, when I took her to our room, placed her on our bed propped up by a Boppy within sight of the restroom, so that I could get thru my morning routine of brushing teeth/washing face/changing.

And then half an hour ago, I noticed her getting slightly cranky, then drowsy. I remembered reading about how babies nap by biorhythm, so the perfect naptimes are 9a and 2p. It was exactly 9a, so I put her, drowsy, in her swing. I hummed to her a bit, employed a pacifier for less than a minute, she resisted a little but after 5-10 mins the sleep took over. She’s napping AT HOME WITHOUT BEING HELD! YES!!!

It may only last 45 mins instead of 2-3 hours, but it’s a start.

Now that the baby’s more active and awake/alert more often, we find that she has superhearing. She’s in her room next door to ours, door closed, and Mr. W showering, brushing his teeth, shaving in our restroom woke her up and kept her awake until the noise died down. It was a little early for her next feeding, but as she was up and crying for it, I fed her anyway. While in there, I realized I can hear downstairs breakfast dishes clinking, faucet, coffeemaker, etc. I wish she weren’t such a light sleeper. The cat’s routine yowling after he eats, which yowling he does right outside her door (I can’t stop him) already startles her awake, altho if he yowls less than 10 times she goes back to sleep. It seems that consistent morning noise (shower, when I pumped in our room for 15 mins) keeps her up long enough and she lays on her back thrashing around, kicking her legs, throwing her arms in the air through it, which wakes her up and keeps her up. *sigh* Mornings are hard, especially when she cuts her sleep short, cuz that cuts my sleep short. Right now, by appearance on the baby IP monitor, my typing downstairs is keeping her up; when I stop, she stops. And I’m typing as gently as I can.

There as so many people I’m thankful to, here are just a few:

My cousin Jennifer, girlfriend Christi (Flip Flop Girl) – thank you for being my rocks through this. I’m so grateful you had your babies first so you could share your experiences to help me (not that the timing was done for my sake), and I’m super grateful to you for responding to my 2am texts, for inviting me to continue contacting you at all hours so that you could counsel me back to sanity and support me with information, experience, advice, comfort, whatever I needed (which ARE things done for my sake). I’m so lucky to have you, and sheepishly also grateful you’re up having 2am feedings too so that you’re available to me via text at the wee hours. 🙂

My friend Diana – thank you for keeping me in the loop and for trusting me enough to come to ME for 2am vent sessions or questions. It keeps me feeling competent and it makes me feel strong that I have some answers and experience that could benefit you. Thank you for thinking of me and sending me the Stilltee, which I am drinking right now. 🙂

My parents – much gratitude to my parents for driving an SUV 40 miles each way at these current gas prices to bring food multiple times a week and to see their granddaughter, and for loving me enough to cook so often the foods that you’ve researched is meant to help a new breastfeeding mother (mom). We may not have the same opinions and ways of doing things especially given the new research between 35 years, but no one can deny how big and loving your hearts and intentions are.

My husband – you are the lifesaver in churning waters, the lighthouse beacon in the dark seas, the doorknob that opens the doorway to moving on and through to the “better.” It HAS gotten better, and so much was because of your sacrifices of sleep, peace, freedom, because you chose to love me and Allie before your own wants. Thank you for guiding and teaching me, for standing by me as I went nuts a little, for the patience lavished on me when you indulged me in my psychological ramblings and observations about myself and my feelings. You have done more and continue to do more than any father I have EVER heard of (unless it’s the single dad of a newborn). Also, thanks for weaning me off so that I could slowly be independent as a new mom when you returned to work. Thank you also for taking fussy baby duty right now so I could blog. 😀

“We like computers!”

“Lemme change the music myself…”

My readers – your advice and support and anecdotes in comments on this blog and private emails in response to things you have read have encouraged me, given me hope, made me laugh, given me things to try. Thank you for walking with me in this journey, and for bearing with my written psychological ramblings. 🙂 Dardy, thanks for doing independent research to help me get through some of the rough spots.

Rest your mouse pointer over the below photo to see Allie’s message to you.

I’ve come to a few realizations which may be psychological breakthroughs.

* I must emotionally detach from Allie’s moods and crying. Babies are gonna do what babies do, and babies cry. She does her baby thing, and I should just do my mama thing around her. There’s no reason to ride the roller coaster with her. She’s not hurt, sick, and nothing’s medically wrong, so once I make sure the basics are covered (diaper, food, comfort), I’ll just let it go. The crying is temporary anyway; she’s not gonna cry for 2 days straight. I’ve watched my cousin in amazement as Baby Alex would fuss and cry as Jennifer was chatting with me, and she’d just kinda go, “Aww, I know, I know,” rock the kid a bit, and then go right back into the conversation. Totally not emotionally vested in Alex’s fussing. I need to learn to do that. I asked Mr. W about his irritation with Allie’s crying. He said he’s like a floodgate which opens wide to let the irritant in and he gets instantly affected, but as soon as the stimulus is over, his irritation response is gone. He obeserves I am more of a small hole which collects response slowly but also releases it slowly so that it takes more to affect me in the beginning, but things collect in me and given the newborn situation, I’m stacked full of yet unreleased tension.

* Maggie’s husband Tom had given me some departing words the other day: “Maybe lower the bar a little.” It hit me yesterday how TRUELY that advice hits. I’d set the bar so high because I’d expected, little naive me with no baby experience, that I will be able to follow the classes, books, anecdotes from other parents, and anticipate my baby’s every need and have an early mommyhood as smooth and uneventful as my pregnancy and delivery. However, the baby is a little person with her own will and needs separate from me, so there is no way I can control her reactions and needs, or anticipate her growth spurts, how SHE in particular feels or what SHE in particular needs at every given moment. This is not a motherhood failure on my part. I just need to go with her flow and know it’s okay.

* Being cooped up at home may have helped keep me from feeling overwhelmed the first couple of weeks, but after that, it shrunk my perspective and MESSED WITH MY HEAD. I was no longer able to see beyond the moment at hand which, if it were a moment of baby crying, was like hell. Totally out of proportion to reality. I was pretty good as a homebody, so when people gave me the advice to get out as often as I can, take walks, enjoy some sunshine, I waved it off in my head as “not applicable to my needs.” I was so wrong.

Yesterday Mr. W and I took Allie out to Target so I could buy some milk storage freezer bags. Then we went to run another errand at Bed, Bath & Beyond, and then we had lunch out on a sunny patio overlooking a man-made lake where people were walking their dogs, operating remote-controlled boats on the water, having a good time. I gabbed about my recent experiences and realizations to Mr. W, he listened and it was nice to have someone support me and tell me I’m doing fine and it’s okay, and to keep advising me gently that Allie crying is okay, it’s a baby thing, and that it won’t damage her. In the early evening, my parents came over and took Allie duty for the first time so that Mr. W and I could have an adult-only dinner. We spent about an hour and a half at a favorite sushi spot on the lake, I got more stuff off my chest, asked him how he psychologically processes the crying and stuff, learned that he knows from experience it’ll all be fine because his other two are fine. We shared some laughs, and I returned home in a MUCH better mood. I even had so much energy last nite that putting Allie down, I wasn’t in a heap of exhaustion mentally begging, “Please please please please go to sleep, please please please don’t cry, I can’t take it if you do, I’m so tired, I need to sleep, please please please don’t fuss and go right to sleep.” She actually did pretty well anyway after her nighttime nursing, altho it took her awhile (meaning 5-7 mins) to actually fall asleep in her crib. But I wasn’t emotionally attached thinking my life hangs in the balance of whether she falls asleep sooner rather than later. I slept in our master bedroom with the monitor on the baby and just got up and went to her when she had her 3-hour nighttime cries for “leh,” then put her back to sleep, came out of her room, went back to bed.

Big picture, Cindy, big picture. She’s only 6.5 weeks old; she’ll finish this stage and move on soon.

I partially swaddled Allie (arms free) and tried to put her down to bed last nite. She had her usual nighttime fit at 9pm, fighting me, refusing to go down, “leh”ing all over the place altho I’d just fed her, sweating, making me sweat, scratching my chest to ribbons with both hands as she made catfight-sounding wauls. At 10:30p I finally gave up, unswaddled her and took her to her nursery, which we rarely use for anything but pumping milk and storage of her clothes and things. I closed the door, put her in her crib and curled up on recliner, intending just to wait it out for a little bit to give myself a break from the screaming. In less than a minute, she was silent. I walked over and peeked in. She was ASLEEP on her fuzzy bear. OMG! I settled back into the La-Z-Boy, curling up horizontally like I used to when I lived on my own and fell asleep in the comfy chair watching TV. Allie stayed asleep happily until almost 2:30am, when I changed and fed her at her request. Then just as easily, she dozed off, I placed her on her back in her crib again as I snoozed in the recliner, and altho she may have awoken here and there, she mainly was able to soothe herself quickly back to sleep and didn’t fully wake up again until past 5:30a for her next feeding. Then 8am for the next feeding. I didn’t have to get up and rock her, silence her, like I had been doing the night before and before I got into the room, and she wasn’t waking up twice an hour. WOW.

I’m trying to following the lactation nurse’s advice yesterday to pump after a morning feeding, but didn’t know how to do that. So this morning, after her 10am feeding, she fell asleep in my arms and I laid her on her back on her changing pad, which I inclined on a pillow. It was hard when she cried a little in the beginning and spit up and I was strapped to the pumps so I couldn’t go to her, but she fell asleep after that on her own and is STILL asleep now from that nap, even tho I moved her to the swing downstairs. Note the time…1:32pm!

WHO is this angel?

I also got a chance to play with her this morning after I changed her. She awoke hungry, but beared (bore?) with me as I massaged her tummy, bicycled her legs, talked to her, and we smiled at each other. Touching her cheek brings on this huge open-mouthed smile, as with touching the tip of my nose to hers. I also made the mistake of leaning down and kissing her cheek while she was eating at one feeding, and she smiled so big my breast fell out of her mouth and I couldn’t relatch her properly.

Here are some photos of her hanging out with her cousin Alexandra yesterday! Alex is 2 months older than Allie, about 3.5 months old right now. Allie is about 6 weeks.
They’re about the same length!!

Allie likes her new cousin.

Alex finally sees my camera!

We were all like this:

Thanks for visiting Babyland!

I’ve gotta learn to blog more concisely with such limited time these days.

Today is Mr. W’s first day back at work, so I took night duty last nite. We switched sides of the bed so that I was by Allie’s rocker sleeper. Putting her down was challenging; she was fussing for awhile and I couldn’t get her to stop crying even though I was holding her. I finally had to use all five “S”s: I swaddled her, turned her on her side in my arms, kept a pacifier in her mouth (sucking), shook her to and fro gently, and shhhh’ed her in her ear. It worked! Thank goodness, because I had run out of “S”s. Keeping her down was another challenge. She basically woke up twice an hour and I had to shhh or rock (often both) her back to sleep. Mr. W didn’t sleep as well as he wanted but better than when he had night duty.

This morning, Mr. W got up at 4:10 am, got ready and left. I noticed that Allie was putting herself back to sleep even tho she was up often with all the morning noise, and I suspected it was because she had worked her right arm out of the swaddle (I could hear her struggling with the swaddle every time she’s swaddled) and had it by her face or head. It seemed to comfort her.

I didn’t know what to do with her while I got ready, so I put her in her cosleeper, turned on the vibration and music, and begged her to just hang on for 10 minutes and not cry too much while I brushed my teeth, washed my face and went to the restroom. I could hear her moving around a bit, but when I peeked in pensively, I saw this:

Wha-? Why can’t this happen at night? She stayed there probably a good half hour while I ran around getting dressed, ready, and cleaned up a bit downstairs, got all the baby stuff in the car. I emailed the photo to Mr. W at work and he responded, “She is so cute when she sleeps unexpectedly.”

I was able to get ready, get her ready, and be out the door at 9am for her 10am lactation appointment. As soon as I got her in the car, I felt great. The sun was shining, and I am successfully mobile. After parking, I couldn’t figure out how to unfold the stroller, tho…none of the buttons and latches worked. So that was my only frustrating point in the day. I finally hand-carried the carseat carrier with her in it to the appointment and got quite the workout.

At the appointment, she was THE PERFECT BABY. I was happy to see the same lactation nurse I’d been with the other 2 times. I pensively showed her 2 photos of Allie’s second poopy blowout from yesterday. The first was yesterday morning when I was at my doctor’s appointment. As relayed to me upon my return, Allie had her very first shower with Mr. W because that poopy squished out the diaper; he said she enjoyed the shower and was happy and smiling. The second blowout was yesterday evening; Mr. W thought it was diahrrea because it was mucousy and very very liquid. The nurse said I can email the photos to the pediatrician to make sure, but in her heart of hearts, she thinks the poopy is fine, not diarrhea, and wet/mucousy is within the very wide range of acceptable breastfed normal poopies. She said Allie looks so robust and healthy that she really doesn’t think something’s medically wrong. Allie drank 4 oz of breastmilk while there and was a happy camper, smiling and not fussing the entire time. It was like a totally different baby today. She fell asleep on the walk from the clinic to the car and stayed asleep for hours in her carrier. Before we left, the nurse took her measurements:
* weight: 11 lbs, 2.3 oz (85th percentile)
* length: 23.9 inches (off the charts; past the 95th percentile, the nurse was impressed and said this was really rare for her to see)
* head circumference: 38.2cm/15 inches (65th percentile)
So she’s tall and lean, according to the nurse. She said if Allie were her family member, she’d be very proud at how healthy and robust she is. She told me I rock, and look at how “in love” Allie is already with me, the way she looks at me! I said Allie looks at everyone like that; the nurse said, “She didn’t look at ME that way!”

I asked when I should stop swaddling; she said, “Oh, she’d HATE to be swaddled now.” She explained that older babies like Allie want their hands free to put at their faces; some babies even hide their eyes with their arm. She said it makes them feel very vulnerable to have their hands locked down by their sides in swaddle. That would explain this morning. I have yet to tell Mr. W this. His theory is that having her hands free makes her feel insecure and wakes her up as they move in her nocturnal jerks and swings.

I asked when I should start pumping to prepare for my return to work. The nurse seemed alarmed and told me I should’ve started already. “You don’t know how many phone calls we get in here from mothers saying they have to get back to work but their baby won’t take the bottle!” So apparently by this point, I’m supposed to be pumping and storing after one morning feeding, and replacing one afternoon/evening feeding with freshly pumped milk bottlefed to her by someone other than me. Getting one bottle a day lets her know others can feed her in other ways. “Especially with how much she’s in love with you already, she will definitely prefer your skin to a bottle if you don’t get her on the bottle once a day now.” So I did the evening pump today and Mr. W fed it to her. Unfortunately, babies are more efficient than pumps so I only got 60 ml (2oz) out for her. She’ll be hungry again soon.

After the appointment, I went to part 2 of my day: visiting at my cousin Jennifer’s. The two babies were both asleep when we first got together; Allie slept in her carrier for HOURS. It was great chatting with Jen and my aunt. (Jen and I were deeply in a conversation about how to store pumped milk in bags when my aunt, her mom, turned to us and said, “You two are so BORING!”) We hung out all day, my aunt cooked a healthy homemade lunch for us, and they were GREAT at relaying their experiences and counseling me about my neuroticism. I was in such a good mood all day, Allie woke up, ate, went back to sleep for HOURS on my shoulder. The whole day everyone commented at how beautiful and easy/quiet Allie is. Wow. Jennifer also observed Allie looks at me with an enamored expression on her face.

Mr. W seemed to have a pretty decent day at work. I am so grateful to him; what a trooper daddy he is for the past 6 weeks of baby duty and mommy training me. He does/did more than any father I have ever heard of. But we both came out of his leave okay, I think. I’ll be taking night duty daily now that he’s back at work; I hope Allie’s behavioral changes continue in the positive direction.

After the Night of Hell came a Night of Angelic Peace, where she went straight down without even a whimper at 9:30p after I fed her upstairs, and didn’t wake up until a feeding was needed about 6 hours later, then she went right back to sleep and we put her down easily again. The night after was a mediocre night. She fussed a little when we tried to put her down, but not for too long; maybe 20 minutes or so. She got up every 4 hours to eat, but we were okay with that. Then last nite was another night of hell; Mr. W told me he’d take her after I fed her at 7:30p, so I could go to bed early. I heard her fussing and crying until 9p when he tried to bring her up to bed. She basically refused to go to sleep (altho she’d doze a minute or two with Mr. W’s efforts, but she fought it and would wake right back up and go right into her crying fit). I fed her again in the middle of this, and it took until well past midnight for her to finally go down for the night. Then she woke up every 3-4 hours for feeding or diaper changes, which was all right. So I’m beginning to think it all just averages out anyway.

My nerves are still frayed. I think I’m getting psychosomatic symptoms to the anxiety. I was thinking the other day I seemed to have general anxiety disorder (GAD), but in a looong hour+ of holding her asleep in my arms in bed when I was afraid to move, so that Mr. W can catch up on his sleep, I figured out that the problem is that my world has shrunk so much since I’ve been off on maternity leave. In this microcosmic world, there’s just the baby, me, and Mr. W with the stepdaughter, my parents, and my friends on the periphery. So given that this world is so small, what’s the worst thing that could happen in it? The baby could cry and fuss and carry on. So my body has assigned that an 8 (out of 10) in anxiety response. I’m nauseated, scared, unable to fall asleep, have pressure on my chest, loss of appetite, and was emotional. Mr. W had said, “So what if she cries? Babies cry.” True, and my level of response is totally disproportionate to the stimulus. My blood pressure is probably through the roof; I can always feel my heart palpitating, it seems. Multiple times today, when I got up, I’d get lightheaded and would have to brace myself against the bed or wall until my vision returned to normal. And the fact that Mr. W is going back to work in 2 days? Half of my team is going to be gone. My body is reacting to that as if he’s going to be gone for 3 months instead of just 12 hours a day (he plans on getting to the gym by 5am, showering for work at 6:15a, napping during lunchtime, and he’ll probably get home between 4:30-5:30p, depending on the workload). I have my post-natal checkup tomorrow morning, anyway.

To cut down on her daytime crying (altho there have been some improvements), we tried the Seven Sling. I think their sizes run small, because once I finally figured out the stupid instructions and got set up, I couldn’t open the fabric up wide enough to shove her in there. Mr. W could do it by wearing the sling deliberately wrong, across his neck rather than across his shoulder, but that gives me back pain.

Every time I tried for 2 days, the 2nd day after watching tons of how-to videos online, we ended up with her screaming from being squished in my attempts to shove her in with her head stuck out, or a limb would get caught, and we always struggled to free her with her screaming again, being crushed. I finally gave it up. There are other ways to carry her in the Seven Sling, such as just having her butt in there and sitting her upright instead of having her cradled in there, but since she’s only 5 weeks old, they don’t recommend a carry that doesn’t have her head supported. I think she’s just too large of a baby for the infant cradle carry, altho I guess she’s able to keep her head up for lengthy amounts of time on her own, which she started being able to do super-early, like week 2-3 or something.

So yesterday I practiced with the Infantino Flip Carrier. All the straps looked intimidating, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought once I was able to put the carrier on by myself and set the straps to the right settings. This morning, while she was fussing, I put her in it and wore her around as I put the dishes from the dishwasher away, and ate some cereal. She went quiet and sleepy almost immediately after getting in. Right now I’m blogging with her sleeping in it.

I think we might have a winner. Mr. W feels it’s too bulky for home use and he might be right, but I’m desperate. I think we’re gonna go carrier-hunting today to find something fabric, easy, and effective. I looked up the Mobi carrier, but that was even more fussy with even more “pockets” to take into consideration than the sling. =P

I had my first bad-mom thought yesterday evening. I had read in various places, and learned in various babycare/birthing classes, that it’s normal to have an awful thought relating to the baby when you’re exhausted and your nerves are frazzled, and it doesn’t mean you’re a bad mother or that you’re going through post-partum depression or post-partum psychosis — like the moms who drown their babies or the one who microwaved her newborn (*vomit*) — unless you find yourself acting it out. Apparently a lot of moms imagine throwing their screaming infants out the window or something. That wasn’t my thought.

I was holding the most innocent-looking, peacefully-sitting sleeping infant in my arms after feeding her. She’d fallen asleep and I was sitting her upright, snuggled between my body and the inside curve of the Boppy pillow, and she was sitting with her feet neatly touching together, her hands obediently together on her lap. Her face was smooth and untroubled. She looked like she was kissing butt, how perfectly she was sitting there, breathing evenly in her sleep.

I took a photo of her beautiful form, and noted that the camera distorts the image, makes her head look way bigger than her body, and doesn’t do her form justice. And I thought, “This past month in its surrealness…if I were to wake up suddenly and realize it was all just a dream and I wasn’t pregnant, and this whole past year’s experiences just dissolve, I’m not sure I would choose to get pregnant.” The implications were so horrible I wouldn’t let myself explore much beyond it. I got to, “I’m not so attached to Allie right now that I would cry at her disappearance if I were to wake up and find that she never existed?” and stopped the thinking. I feel like the most rotten person for thinking I may take up an opportunity to change things if I were given a guiltless freebie. Rotten person, horrid mother.

I love Allie; it’s just so much harder than anyone had warned me it would be. And the ridiculous part is — I don’t actually think anything’s WRONG. I’m just submerged in a new game in which I’m unfamiliar with any of the rules, and the rules keep changing when I figure some of them out, and I’m not used to feeling SO lost and SO insecure about something so important. I constantly have dreams that I’m back in college and find myself suddenly on the eve of finals and realizing I’m completely unprepared and had done none of the required assignments or studying.

I never thought I’d be one of those moms who’d cry about this feeling, either. I really thought my optimism would just barrel me through. Now I’m instantly worried something’s terribly wrong when Mr. W merely shakes his head and rolls his eyes that I’m feeding her again after I’d just fed her a little over an hour previously, despite the fact that he has told me to stop taking cues from him. My cousin Jennifer said her 3-month-old had gone through a growth spurt and feeding frenzy every 2-3 weeks and that this is normal, and I’d read as much, but I still have these ridiculous fears like, “What if my baby is an anomaly and doesn’t actually know when to stop eating?”

Because of my insecurity causing me to take to heart every negative inflection from Mr. W, I almost feel better about his going back to work next week. Then I wouldn’t feel guilty about her crying upsetting him, or about holding her and letting her sleep in my arms after a feeding (he says I can’t hold her all day and he’s right, and I hope I’m not “training” her to only be able to sleep when held, but the fact is that she wakes up in 15 mins or less when we put her down somewhere after she’s fallen asleep, whereas she’ll sleep on me for 2-3 hours, and THAT’S got me concerned, too). But more than that possible tiny bit of relief, I mostly feel scared. 12 hours is a long time to be alone with the baby when I’ve been so dependent on Mr. W to take over things. I won’t have those long morning showers when Mr. W is playing with Allie after I’d just fed her; there won’t be another parent to soothe her crying or change a diaper if I can’t get there fast enough; I can’t leave her to get online or clean up or throw the changed diaper away immediately. I can’t make food for myself and then eat it uninterrupted. Worst of all, I can’t leave the house with her if I need to. I still have some days left. I’m going to train myself to use the baby carrier so I can free up my hands at home, and to use the car seat/carrier/stroller.

Thank God my cousin Jennifer lives a few cities over and has offered many times to come by with her baby to help if I need it, and has told me to go over whenever I liked until she’s back to work after maternity leave.

Christmas was spent at home in our pajamas. Allie was getting better with her screaming in that she still fussed but did it less often, with less severity and for much shorter periods of time. But as soon as Christmas Day hit at midnight, she wailed and screamed and cried and wouldn’t settle down for hours on end. This continued through Christmas Day until we were just exhausted; Mr. W made a few too many half-jokes about giving her away, putting her in foster care until she was older, or handing her over to other family/friends to care for until she was old enough to stop screaming. She finally settled down after a feeding, falling asleep in my arms, when my parents came over as they often do these days with box dinners for us. When she awoke, she got crabby again.

Two days before Christmas, I had managed to go alone to the mall to get my parents two sets of double-walled glass teacups that they’d liked. While I was there, I also got Mr. W L’eau Par Kenzo cologne (he’s a cologne fiend) and a waffle recipe book so he could get more use out of the waffle iron he’d recently acquired. I was wondering how to secretly wrap this stuff while caring for a baby and with Mr. W also home when I stumbled upon a donation-run giftwrap station in the center of the mall, so I gladly handed the stuff over and was done with everything as soon as I walked out. The mall was getting crowded by the time I left.

We exchanged gifts on Christmas evening, with Mr. W looking surprised when I brought a box out from under the tree with a card and handed it to him. We had somehow developed an unsaid understanding that we weren’t getting each other presents. Then he got up and went to the tree, dragged out a large “prop” box that was supposed to be empty, and handed it to me. Everyone loved their stuff; he got me a super-nice sheet set that I had fallen in love with at our massage place the moment I laid down in the luxury. I had considered buying it from the massage spot, but the price tag turned me off. He spoils me. And speaking of spoil, my parents got me a denim Coach bag and an “Allie” necklace with her birthstone and my birthstone; they got Mr. W a Coach wallet-slash-cellphone-holder and a Coach beanie. My mom proudly announced she did all her Christmas shopping in one store.

Today, Mr. W got up at 7am after Allie’s morning feeding and went to the gym. Allie went back to sleep and seemed to wake up a few times, making her usual gurgles, fist-in-the-air stretches, squeals, bicycle legs, all with her eyes closed, and falling back to sleep each time. She slept so well I managed to go downstairs and have some breakfast on my own before the cat did his yowling thing and woke her up for good. I had just finished feeding her brunch (which she asks for by peppering her cries with “le! Lehhhh!” It sounds very French) when Mr. W came back and suggested I get ready for an outing so we could have a bite out and take Allie for a walk.

It was beautiful outside today, sunny, although a little arid for my tastes. We drove to San Juan Capistrano and had a nice lunch al fresco at Sundried Tomato Cafe. Allie woke up in her stroller and fussed. Once the pacifier lost its power to console her, I decided to take her into the restroom and change her, as she was squirming something wicked, too. My first public changing experience with her was pretty unpleasant. There was no changing table, so I had to place her on the marble counter between the two sinks on her changing pad. She screamed and scratched and writhed the entire time, probably because she was uncomfortable as it was freezing in the bathroom. Then I couldn’t find the diapers in the daddy diaper backpack Mr. W brought. I must’ve unzipped 7 compartments before I found an inner pocket. She was meanwhile sliding off me as I had to hold her with one arm, and clawing my chest and neck to ribbons and deafening me with her wails. Finally, the deed done, I exited the bathroom, rather embarrassed as I was sure people in the restaurant were wondering who on earth was killing a baby in the bathroom. Thankfully, the bathroom stayed empty while I was in there (I wouldn’t go in if I heard that, either) and the moment we walked out into the warmer restaurant, Allie was silent.

We then braved the mall again to return a set of the glass teacups; my parents took the gift home and found a crack in one. Allie started crying her “Le! Lehhhh! Le!” in the car so I fed her in the backseat really quick, Mr. W put her in a harness-type carrier, and wore her into the mall. We bee-lined to the tea store, did the exchange, and bee-lined back to the car. Allie slept in the carrier the whole time. Whew.

And with that, we concluded our first Christmas holiday with a baby.

My little girl turned a month old today! I can’t call her “little” anymore, though. Mr. W slapped a tape measure on her today, and she’s 23 inches long (that’s a two-inch gain in a month since her birth!) and her head measured 14.5 inches. I noticed when I looked at her around the 3 week mark that her hands looked double in size, because one tiny hand used to wrap around the upper half of my thumb, and now it wraps around my entire thumb. Last night, she stretched from crown to toes nearly end-to-end in her playard co-sleeper. Looking down at her today, I was almost startled at how big she looked in my arms. No, we didn’t take a photo today, but we have some from our Christmas photo shoot(s).

From December 8, 15 days ago, I tried to get some shots that I could use on Allie’s birth announcement card. (As always, rest mouse pointer over photos for captions.) These are outtakes:

From December 13, 10 days ago… Mr. W’s son came over and we tried to get a family shot so that I could make a Christmas photocard. It was NOT easy to get 4 adults AND a baby looking decent, looking at the camera, and all at the same time. Observe:

So apparently, only Allie was ready in this shot.

Allie already had enough of posing, and Son is losing focus fast. Daughter obviously was ready to go. =P

After many mediocre or less fruitful attempts, the stepdaughter predicted that “this next shot is it!” …and then Allie sneezed. “NOOOOOOOOO!” Stepdaughter cried.

We *almost* got the shot we wanted in the following one, but we weren’t sure if Allie gazing adoringly at her mommy would satiate people’s desire to see what Allie’s face actually looks like.

We decided to turn the camera so we could get a tighter shot on the group, and Allie actually looked at the camera at the right time, but Mr. W didn’t account for how tall he is when he set up the shot.

Finally, this is the shot we went with:

By the way, Allie’s fancy dress is an adorable onesie with a tutu attached, and it says “Santa Baby” on the shirt, not that anyone could tell cuz Allie keeps clasping her hands in front of her chest like an opera singer. And of course we learn after closer examination that I should’ve been sitting on the higher chair, but whatever. We were done with all the effort.

I wrote an email to Allie’s pediatrician yesterday morning explaining about her gassiness and lack of poopy. She was on her 5th day of being a pea-shu. At Rebecca’s suggestion, I’d started drinking half a cup of prune juice a day (and it’s done stuff for ME, but hadn’t yet done anything for Allie); at lots of people’s suggestions, I’d cut out gassy foods from my diet, such as onions, beans, cabbage, dairy. Allie’s gas issue seems better — she fusses still, but has her hysterical fits much less, and now settles down more easily and it doesn’t take 2+ hours of comforting her anymore to get her to stop crying. She still wakes from sleep fussing here and there, though. The pediatrician’s nurse wrote me back late afternoon saying that the doctor is out of the office that day, but that after the 3rd week of life, a breastfed infant can go 5-7 days without pooping, and it’s okay as long as the baby doesn’t appear to be in pain. Previous nurses and doctors were all unconcerned at Allie’s prior poopilessness because her stomach wasn’t distended or hard and she was tooting, which means no blockage. They say she’s just using up all the nutrients and her body isn’t wasting anything to expel, and she’s peeing plenty so she’s not dehydrated. But that was when she skipped 1-3 days. The nurse went on in her email to tell me that if I’m concerned and the problem continues, I can get some infant glycerin suppositories and put half a pill in Allie.

Today makes 6 days of unpoopiness, so I went out this evening in search of the said suppositories. CVS drugstore had individually-packed liquid glycerin doses, but specified it was for children 2-5 years of age. I considered using half a dose, but how do you half-dose liquid? And what if there’s a specific reason this is not labeled for babies, such as the concentration was stronger?
I walked from there to Ralphs grocery store. They didn’t have anything useful. “Little Tummys” stomach medication; “Little Noses” sniffles medication; “Little Colds” cold medication…where was “Little Anuses?”
I drove to Walgreens Pharmacy. They had the same “Little” collection and liquid glycerine for 2-5 year olds. I was about to leave, but then asked to be directed to a pharmacist so that I could at least ask before I gave up. I had to wait behind 2 idiots who took up nearly 15 minutes each with their stupid issues (one picked up her prescription, then asked to check on a prescription for her mom, which the pharmacist confirmed was in the system and filled but was ordered at a different branch, so the lady wanted to transfer it to this branch, but didn’t want to wait 15 minutes for it, then decided she wanted it anyway, then asked for a demonstration on how to use it even tho it was her mom’s; the other lady had issues with her insurance not letting her get 2 refills’ worth of meds at the same time and made the pharmacy call her insurance and doctor). Too bad they didn’t turn around to read my Happy Bunny shirt, which read “Make the stupid people shut up!” I finally got to explain my dilemma to the pharmacist, asking if I could just squeeze half a bulb’s worth of meds into Allie. The pharmacist took me to a whole different section of the store where they were apparently hiding the infant glycerin suppositories, and instructed me on how to cut one in half and insert it, warning me sympathetically not to overuse the product because we don’t want Allie dependent on it for bowel movements. Because of this warning, I decided to buy the product but wait until after the 7th day of poopilessness before administering it. (On the 7th day of Christmas, my true love sent to me…)

“Okay, Allie, you have one day to poopy on your own before I stick something up your butt,” I told her when I got home.
She poopied less than an hour later. I keep kicking myself for not simply ASKING her to do something earlier, like when I kept complaining she wasn’t coming out into the world but the day Mr. W simply ASKED her to come out, she started my contractions that night.